I saw the Christian men, doing Christian things.
A martyr Larp for some, and yet others more genuine.

I told them I respected their courage, if not their faith.
This was not a lie. There is something admirable in conviction..

They prayed for me, hands on my shoulders..
To whom, and for what, I did not know, nor did I care.

But a man should know what he would die for, and then live for it.

These Christians are simple people but not completely without a point, nor without some warmth.

I’ve met worse Christians than these..
..They’ve met worse heathens than me.

Not like this.

the path you stumbled for,
left you for some footsteps of a goddess
that we never were sure of her existence.

He left you on the road
oh, beautiful landscape of all
such green trees, such brown leaves.
Do you wonder how I wonder?
wanderlust, collecting dust
of the wasted decades we had
of an item we never truly got to reckon it's form
I do not believe in time
it does not exist
break all hour glasses done.